


An Inconvenient Addiction

by bow_eros



Series: An Inconvenience [2]
Category: Borderlands (Video Games), Tales from the Borderlands - Fandom
Genre: (side NPC character), Angry Sex, Atlas CEO Rhys, Face Slapping, Humiliation, M/M, Minor Character Death, Painful Sex, Rival CEOs, Rival Relationship, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-12
Updated: 2019-06-12
Packaged: 2020-05-02 03:46:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19191256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bow_eros/pseuds/bow_eros
Summary: Hyperion "accidentally" - no, really, accidentally - put a hole in Atlas's facility with a moonshot while trying to set up for the underhanded mining deal Jack did behind Rhys's back. Needless to say, Rhys is a little mad.





	An Inconvenient Addiction

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to [Yusariis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yusariis) for beta-reading and making this fic better than the small trash pile it was. An thank u to Saff from the Borderlands/Rhack server for giving me the idea!! this is purely indulgent to my own kinks, gomen

Jack isn't a person to particularly like it when someone comes into his office unannounced - quite frankly, it had gotten more people spaced than HR was particularly comfortable with. Not that HR was particularly comfortable with anything Jack did pertaining to his employees or guests on the Helios station.

Rhys was the exception.

Perhaps not now, while Rhys was walking in with his shoulders sloped in an angry, inward line, and his mouth twisted into a scowl.

“ _Jack,_ ” he snaps, right after the doors close behind him, and Jack can’t help but stand up from the tone. He _knows_ he’s in trouble.

“Oh, no ‘Hyperion’ today, Atlas?” Jack muses smugly with a smile. Rhys must have heard about that new deal he’s got going. A new Eridium mine that’s basically kissing the edge of the Atlas HQ - he can imagine Rhys waking up to the shake of the moonshot, like Hyperion was finally starting to take over, with the bots and loaders. The fear on his face must have been _priceless_. Like sweet tea on a hot summer day.

What he’s not expecting is Rhys storming up the dias without being summoned - he usually has the _courtesy_ to do that - and slapping him so hard Jack’s hearing goes for a second, ringing starting a moment later. He blinks, and looks at Rhys while he adjusts himself. He positions himself a little more defensively, one foot settling so that he’s at an angle, protecting his stomach and groin from any attacks. Those legs have some reach, he’s not going to take a knee to the nuts because of a _mining deal._

“You _dumb_ piece of shit!” Rhys is nearly howling, grabbing the front of Jack’s shirt. “Do you have any idea what you did?!”

Jack blinks lamely. “Uh,” he starts, but Rhys doesn't give him an inch to be snarky, or to lighten the mood at all. Rhys is _all business._

“You put a _moonshot_ **_directly_** _through my facility._ ”

Oh.

Oh, this… was not--

“Good,” Jack’s mouth twists up into a confident smile, even if some part of him is shaking inside. Maybe it’s his hands, but he won’t be admitting that aloud. “Finally torch that stupid eyesore off the planet.”

Rhys’s eyes widen, and then turns into something more aggressive; Jack catches the first second of it before he’s backhanded.

Jack’s gut twists, and his chest and cheek ache. More ringing, but he knows he should fight back. Show Rhys what for. He should strangle this kid for even _laying a hand on him_ \--

“ _Take it off,_ ” Rhys growls. It’s a fitting tone, but the way that he shakes Jack by his collar is not _sexy_ like the way his voice is. “Take off the mask, Jack.”

Jack’s mouth opens once before he shakes his head. “It was a mistake.”

“And whose mistake was it?!” Rhys pushes him, the backs of Jack’s thighs meeting the corner of his desk and making him reel back a little. His elbow bumps the monitor and he turns slightly so he can try to get away, on the other sssssnope. Nope, Rhys’s mechanical hand is on his throat, pushing him down onto the desk and making him gasp for air, his organic hand finding the clasps securing Jack’s mask to his face. “You _listen_ to me next time, you _stupid_ , _arrogant_ shithead. When I say the mines are not for sale _,_ I _mean_ that the mines are _not for sale!_ ”

The mask comes off, thrown onto the ground with a loud and probably _damaging_ clatter, and Jack is already flushed red, squirming under Rhys’s explosive rage. “I didn’t--”

“ _I didn’t mean to, Rhys,_ ” the Atlas CEO mocks, “ _Oh, I promise I’ll make it up to you, Rhys. I can’t say no to you, Atlas--_ You went behind my back! _You_ went behind my _back_ with my own _company!_ ” Rhys’s fingertips touch the desk, and Jack’s throat seems to _squish_ beneath his force. Jack grabs onto his wrist and kicks his feet. “First you don’t tell me where your stupid compound is, then you don’t tell me what you need the Eridium for-- Maliwan has a mine, you stupid-- _you fucking idiot!_ You just _had to come after mine, huh?!_ Was that it, that you had to take _my_ toys away from me because you were bored with yours?”

“S’s-not--” Jack’s throat constricts desperately, squirming on the desk and shoving off a pencil cup, some papers. “I--”

“Maybe you wanted this, huh? You’re able to take my shit away from me because you know I’ll come up here and _directly_ punish you--” Rhys’s eyes flash with a small epiphany, and Jack closes his eyes. “That’s-- _you..!_ ”

Jack feels the way Rhys’s hand spasms for a moment, like he’s unsure of himself, before he gives his arm a quick double-tap. Rhys releases his hold entirely and backs up, giving Jack a few moments to breathe unhindered.

“You _knew_ you could get away with this,” Rhys hisses. “You knew that if you--”

“Shut _up,_ ” Jack chokes. There’s already a ring of bruises forming around his throat, bright red at the moment, with bits being brighter than others from being pinched between the joints in the metal digits. He sits up slowly, pushing himself up with his elbow and huffing for breath. “Shut up, it’s not what you think.”

“Don’t _lie_ to me again,” Rhys pushes him down by his chest this time, and Jack’s head hits the desk with an uncomfortable _thump._ He glances upwards to see another change in Rhys’s expression, something that makes his gut churn. “Don’t open your mouth and speak to me unless you’re going to tell me the truth, _understand?_ ”

It takes a moment, but Jack nods as much as he can in Rhys’s grip.

Rhys releases him after another moment, hand falling to his chest to start on his many layers. First his vest, then rucking up the sweater beneath it, fingers working fast and deft.

“Who determined the coordinates for your stupid moonshot?”

“I don’t know,” Jack rasps. His legs hang limply over the edge of the desk, watching Rhys carefully.

“Which department is it?” Rhys tugs at a few more buttons before he’s pushing a sleeve off of Jack’s shoulder. He tugs Jack up by his hair to put him in a better position to take the sweater off, over his head.

“I-it’s, ah…” Jack has to actively think. The main part of his brain is wondering:  Is Rhys seriously stripping him? This is… not going to end well for him, he can already deduce that much. “Uh, fuck. It’s the people down in the Launching Station, the Pandora sector. It’s probably them.”

With his top half bare, Rhys makes quick work taking off his belt, his gun holster, and then his pants.  Rhys moves efficiently, nothing _foreplay-y_ about this. Jack’s basically sitting on his hands until Rhys starts his jeans. Jack’s not about to tell him why he needs the mine, the Eridum; about _Angel_. Rhys would have to do more than choke him out and strip him to get him to tell about Angel.

Rhys doesn’t ask any more questions, however, which makes Jack think he might have done something right; instead of putting a hole in Atlas’s facility, and betraying Rhys on the agreement they made behind closed doors. Instead, Rhys has him on his stomach, feet planted on the floor (why, why does he still have his shoes on, Rhys, please let him be _completely_ naked if not anything else) and bent over his own desk.

How fucking humiliating. Jack grits his teeth, about to growl at Rhys before he feels warm fingers trail down his back, almost _sweetly,_ and gently slide over Jack’s rear. It causes a shiver to rocket up Jack’s spine - he hates how Rhys knows how to touch him, how to get a reaction out of him. It’s the same when Rhys kisses right up at the crook of his jaw, or bites his ears. Even thinking about it is making Jack’s stomach turn over like an engine, a warm purr starting up inside.

Rhys stands back for a moment, like he’s examining his work, then points to the communications system. “Call them.”

“Call _who_ now?” Jack asks, blinking.

“The Pandora sector of your Launching Station. I want to know who exactly I have to _kill_ for putting a hole in my facility.”

Jack turns his head so he’s no longer looking over his shoulder, and he’s face to face with the comms unit. He makes the softest grumbling noise (it wouldn’t be the first time that he was naked while talking on the phone - in his office, no less), so he pulls up the directory and calls.

It’s just a few moments until someone picks up. _“Launch Station.”_

“ _Hey,_ so,” Jack murmurs, but clears his throat. “I hear one of you idiots put a hole in the Atlas facility?”

_"Handsome Jack, sir! Ye-yes, sir, our, ah… It seems our coordinates were off somehow, or we didn’t factor in… something…"_

Rhys waits a few moments, the air filled with tense silence before he brings his hand down _hard_ on Jack’s ass, making Jack yelp, head turning around. “What the _fuck--_ ”

The Atlas CEO doesn’t give him the time of day, landing another hit on him. It zips up his spine, down his legs. Jack has to force out the words, his mind in a tailspin: “I want their name, their badge number, and I want them in my office within the next ten minutes.”

_"Uhm, y-yes… sir?"_

Jack’s shivering a bit, glaring at Rhys before he snarls into the communicator. “ _Now!_ ”

The line goes dead after another moment, and Rhys brings his hand down again, another sharp sting whipping up Jack’s spine and making his toes curl. “ _Alright,_ you can _stop_ that, now,” Jack hisses.

“Are you gonna tell me what I can and can’t do?” Rhys murmurs. “Really? Because last I heard, it was _Hyperion_ that stole the deeds to my mine, _Hyperion_ that put a _glorified space-bullet_ through my Accounting sector, and _Hyperion_ that went behind my back. I think _Hyperion_ deserves a few spankings for such _bad behavior!_ ”

Every time _Hyperion_ comes out of Rhys’s mouth, there’s another hand print forming on Jack’s ass, at the crease of his thighs. He knows he’s lucky it’s Rhys’s left hand and not his right. He can’t imagine what force might come behind that cybernetic.

Rhys backs up a second, letting Jack catch his breath. There’s some rustling, but Jack doesn’t turn his head to look; he closes his eyes and tries to relax a little.

“You’re lucky I didn’t outright shoot you when I walked in the door, Jack.” There’s a gun next to his head now - Jack’s own gun, how fucking _poetic_ \- just being set there as Rhys leans over him. His hips bump up against Jack’s sore rear. “You’re lucky I _kind-of like you._ ”

“Only kind-of?” Jack rests his cheek to the desk after a moment of glancing at the gun; he faces the other direction, looking over his shoulder at Rhys.

Oh, he’s pretty. Oh, god damn, he’s so fucking pretty. His hair is slightly unkempt from the effort it’s taken to strip Jack, a few more hairs swaying over his forehead. His eye glows blue, and Jack knows (with an uncomfortable half-pleasured, half-dreading twist of his stomach) that he’s recording this. The top buttons of his shirt are open, his mouth parted slightly and showing the soft, slick pink of the insides of his mouth. Jack wants to run his thumb along the inside, feel the velvet of his flesh, bite his lips red--

Rhys’s hips grind forward, his belt catching on Jack’s skin and raking across it. Jack groans and closes his eyes, gonna bring his hands up to cup the back of his neck.

“Less than kind-of right now,” Rhys hums. “I wanted to kick your stupid fucking teeth in when I saw you, _smiling_ like you had won some stupid game.”

“I think I’m a little bit more useful to you than just a kick in the mouth, baby,” Jack murmurs mainly to himself, but Rhys’s fingers wrap around and dig into his shoulder, pulling him backwards and, more importantly, against Rhys.

“You are.”

Rhys sounds a little reverent, a little _forgiving._ There’s affection beneath it all, knowledge and a _relationship_ , however fucked up it is, that rides on this. Two companies that are wound up in each other financially and emotionally, and Jack knows Rhys knows his assumption was right; Jack did this because he knew that he could get away with it with his dignity and his ass only mildly bruised.

“... but only a little bit.”

Jack laughs softly, one hand coming down slowly to slide a finger through one of Rhys’s belt loops. “Lube’s in the right-hand drawer, top one. If you wanna _make use of me_.”

There’s a moment of tense silence, and he doesn’t have to look to know Rhys’s face is scrunching up slightly, _irritated_ and flustered all at once.

“ _God_ , I hate you,” Rhys smacks him on the ass again before he backs up, gonna go rummage through the drawer. “Arrogant, _stupid_ son of a bitch--”

It’s only a few moments between Rhys leaving and coming back, but the cool air gives Jack a bit of relief on the welts forming on his rear. Kid has an arm on him, certainly more of one than when they started this whole thing. The first time was similar - Rhys came in, slapped him across the face for ‘wronging him’ on some underhanded, behind-doors deal, but instead of Jack face-down on the desk, Rhys was happily riding his cock by the time their argument was supposed to crescendo.

Rhys doesn’t bother prepping Jack, sending a thrill up the Hyperion CEO’s spine. He slides two fingers inside, mainly just to slick the way before he’s working at his own belt, unceremoniously pulling the front of his slacks down to wrap his fingers around his hard-on. He forces his way home without any other preamble.

It’s a shock, like being dumped in cold water; of course it hurts. Rhys’s metal hand slides through Jack’s hair and pulls hard, craning his neck back. Rhys’s chest presses against Jack’s back, his breath grazing the back of Jack’s neck.

“I want a written apology on my desk with your goddamn signature on it by the end of the week, or so help me, I’m going to gut you.”

“O-oh, baby,” Jack’s voice is more strained, but the snark is in there somewhere, “I love w-when you talk dirty to me.”

Rhys opens his mouth to speak when the communications system beeps loudly. Rhys makes a soft, affronted noise at it, like his passive-aggression might deter it from making another noise, but both of them know who’s on the other side of the door.

“Well? Answer it, Jack,” Rhys tugs at his hair for emphasis.

The receptionist clears her throat over the comm once Jack presses the button to answer. They’re really gonna do this, huh?

_“Mr. Handsome Jack, Mr. Atlas, there’s a guest here for you. A Mr. Torres from Launching Station.”_

“Oh, good,” Rhys hums, and Jack makes a soft noise - is that a whimper? Surely not, _the_ Handsome Jack doesn’t _whimper_ \- when he rolls his hips forwards again. “Send Mr. Torres in, Meg. Thank you.”

_“You’re welcome, Mr. Atlas.”_

Jack feels an uncomfortable drop down his spine. “Mask,” he huffs. Is he really that out of breath? H-he can’t be, this kid can’t outpace him this fast.

“Oh, it’s not like he’s going to be around long enough to remember anything,” Rhys says it _nonchalantly,_ even if he is breathing a bit harder. Rhys picks up the gun in his left hand, shifting it in his grip a few times before he’s watching the doors slide open.

Jack covers his face with his hand, but Rhys reaches forward to pin his wrist to the desk, gripping hard with his cybernetic. “Rhys,” he hisses. He can feel his cheeks getting hot, his skin starting to prickle with genuine discomfort.

“Mr. Torres,” Rhys says cordially enough. He’ll motion him closer with a careful nod of his head. The engineer looks petrified. “Come closer, please. I have something for you.”

Rhys had once said that the one thing he never understood about Hyperion, even if he _appreciated_ how convenient it happened to be, was how most, if not all, of the employees working there seemed to _eagerly_ mozy into danger. He had said it so eloquently, “like lemmings following their leader off the edge of a cliff.”

The engineer walks forward, a furrow-browed expression on his face like he’s confused as to why he’s coming closer. It’s fitting, considering the gun isn’t hidden from view; there’s Handsome Jack, prone on the desk, and it’s… all around, just a _bad_ situation for poor, poor Mr. Torres.

“Jack,” Rhys _purrs_ his name, and it makes Jack tingle. There are fingers in his hair again, gentle and kind, then a hand at his throat so that he’s looking up, craning to look at the engineer - a simple, stupid engineer, who’s looking at him _horrified,_ like he’s seen a ghost. “Say ‘hello’ to Mr. Torres.”

Jack’s eyes narrow slightly, a cruel smile creeping up onto his lips. “Hasta la vista, fucko.”

There’s a bullet casing that falls on the desk next to him, the heat of the round radiating down onto him, and Rhys’s body jerks behind him with the gunshot. More ringing in his ear, but it’s… kinda hot, seeing his rival-slash-boyfriend kill out of rage.

The man’s body collapses to the ground after a moment, Rhys setting the gun down carefully and gently with a breath of relief hissing out of him.

“ _Now_ ,” Rhys’s voice is deathly low, and Jack has to strain himself to hear it at first. “I want the deeds to the mines back, I want the name of the person you worked with from Atlas,” Rhys digs his nails into Jack’s hip, the other hand around his throat tightening slightly, “and then I want a weekend alone with you on some fancy, tropical planet where I can wreck you _thoroughly_ without being interrupted.”

"Yeah, baby," Jack breathes shakily. He grins into his desk, eyes closing, "anything you want."


End file.
